


Sparks

by BrusselsSprout



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 3x14, Anger, Bonding, Calming Techniques, Gen, Inhuman Powers, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 23:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15496734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrusselsSprout/pseuds/BrusselsSprout
Summary: After Fitz almost implodes, Daisy insists that he needs to be checked out. A missing scene for 3x14 as Fitz and Lincoln bond over their temper issues, and discuss powers.





	Sparks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AchillesMonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AchillesMonkey/gifts).



> This Fic was written as part of the AoS FicNet Midyear Fic Exchange for @AchillesMonkey on the prompt: Fitz and Lincoln bonding/becoming friends.

_ You almost died, you idiot. You almost died again. You are useless... When will you learn? _

“You should have that checked out.” Daisy’s voice penetrated the loud throbbing in Fitz’s head which always seemed to hum the greatest hits of the abuses his asshole father used to throw at him. Daisy’s voice almost sounded like it was coming from underwater.  _ No, he definitely did not want to think about being under water. _ Fitz recognized the signs; his pulse was quickening, his stomach felt like a coil wound up too tight, his chest was squeezed by an invisible vice and his breaths were shallow.

“I’m fine.” he growled back at her, his voice coming out harsher than he meant. “Mack…” 

“He’ll be fine,” Daisy said “a strike team is already on the way. You don’t look well, Fitz. Come on.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him up. Fitz sighed in frustration, but followed her in a haze, his legs moving on autopilot. 

He looked around in panic when he realized that she was leading him to the infirmary, but luckily Jemma was not there. 

“What’s up?” asked Lincoln smiling at Daisy. 

“He almost died - exploded...” Daisy pointed at Fitz’s neck still raw from the nitramine bomb that ate into his flesh. “Check him out, ok? I have to go back to Mack.” When Lincoln looked at her with many questions in his eye, she added quickly, “I’ll tell you everything later.”

“Be careful, Daisy…” Lincoln muttered. 

“Call me when you know something.” Fitz added. 

“You got it.” replied Daisy to no one in particular and hurried out of the infirmary leaving a thick cloud of silence behind. Fitz leaned against the doorframe and bounced on his feet as the nervous energy coursing through his body needed an outlet. 

“You can sit down and take off your shirt…” Lincoln’s voice sounded neutral, clinically detached.  _ Do they teach this stupid doctor voice in med school?  _  A new wave of irritation hit Fitz. He just wanted to go back to his room until the throbbing in his head could quiet down or alternatively, he could smash his fist against the wall - sometimes the sharp pain helped - it quieted the throbbing by being louder. “Really, I’m fine, Lincoln...I just need you to sign the medical release…” he managed to say it through gritted teeth, trying to keep the sharp edge out of his voice.

“You prefer I call Simmons?”  _ Damn, Lincoln apparently noticed his discomfort.  _ The last thing Fitz wanted was Jemma fussing about him. She had been through enough without having to feel anxious about him almost dying. Again.

“No, no, no…” he shook his head.  “I just don’t understand what the bloody fuss is. I had a long day - and just want to go to bed? Is that so hard to understand?” his voice rose both in cadence and volume with each word, matching the hot boiling anger that was rising to the surface unstoppably.

Lincoln held up his hands trying to calm him. “Hey - you don’t look ok - and since you almost exploded…”

“Imploded…” Fitz interrupted angrily.  _ Facts mattered. Details saved lives. What was it with everyone being so careless with facts? _

“Oh, so this is the explosion phase - right now?...” Lincoln asked sarcastically. Fitz just glared at him - he was certainly not in the mood for joking. Lincoln’s smile slowly turned into a frown as he muttered. “Sorry, just a bad pun. I’m going to check you out…” 

Fitz sighed and tried to unbutton his shirt, but his hands were shaking so hard, he kept fumbling with the buttons. He pounded his fist against the examination table in frustration. 

“Your hands are trembling…” Lincoln observed.

“Do you need an MD degree to state the obvious?” Fitz snapped as the hot red anger now fully engulfed him. But it also helped him to focus more and he finally managed to undo his last button. He shrugged out of his shirt. He looked at Lincoln and added a little bit more evenly “Yeah, no... it does that - when I’m… you know...“ and he pointed at his head, though he was unsure if Lincoln was aware of his medical history. They never really talked - his presence in the lab, as far as Fitz was concerned, was a convenient distraction for Jemma  - a buffer between them to make the awkward silence and halting conversations less obvious. 

“Here, hold this,” Lincoln said placing something smooth in Fitz’s palm. He stared at it - it was a black rock - looked like basalt.

He raised his eyes to Lincoln in confusion. “It’s a rock - I wasn’t aware that we’re using pebbles as diagnostic tools.” It was a snide comment, but the whole situation was beyond ridiculous. 

“Squeeze it.” Lincoln replied patiently, unfazed by Fitz’s scornful observation.

Fitz scoffed “What the hell? I'm not going to squeeze a rock.”

“Look, I know…you probably think I’m talking mumbo-jumbo most of the time, but amazingly there are things that work. When I got to Afterlife, I was a mess in every way possible, having a terrible temper. They taught me a lot of things about control before I got my powers.”

Fitz considered that. He knew Lincoln to be kind, helpful and mostly soft-spoken, but he heard from Mack that he had anger issues on the field. “If I had a superpower like yours I’d be a public risk.” he joked.

“You don’t need to have superpowers to cause destruction.” Lincoln said quietly and looked at Fitz pointedly. “Just think about what the Watchdogs did today…hate and anger always leaves destruction in its path.”

Fitz nodded in acknowledgement. “I suppose that’s true.” He tried not to think of the people he hurt with his anger. He looked at Lincoln’s hands and blurted out “How does it feel? To have sparks flying out of your hand?”

“Honestly, on some days, like a bad case of static zap. Try the rock and I’ll show you.” Lincoln smirked.

Fitz shrugged. “OK.” 

“Close your eyes - and squeeze it as hard as you can. Think about the elemental powers that formed it - that made it unique.  And then relax your hand slowly. Release the anger.” Fitz tried to follow Lincoln’s instructions but his overactive mind was already spitting out objections by the second why it was ridiculous. 

“But…”  he protested..

“Don’t think, just go with it…” Lincoln said calmly.

Fitz let out a deep breath and squeezed the rock hard. It felt smooth and unyielding. He thought about the elements that formed it; the raging fires of the volcano that spit it out, the crashing waves that washed over it until its edges were gone, the howling wind that did the last polish. Powers raw and elemental, just like his anger. He released his muscles and the throbbing in his head stopped. His hands were not shaking anymore and he felt calmer. He looked at Lincoln, who was watching him with a little smile, and nodded.

He held out his hand towards Fitz. “So, do you want to feel it?”

“Sure…” Fitz touched his palm carefully, feeling the zap of electricity - it fluctuated in intensity, in one second feeling like little ants marching up and down his arms to be replaced by  a burning sensation. “Fascinating!” he said pulling back his hand. Then the questions started to pour out; “Is the electromagnetic field constantly there or you can also initialise the electronic charge? How do you turn it into current? And how do you control the voltage?”

Lincoln shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t think about it much, anymore, I just feel it. It’s become a part of me - like an arm or a leg… do you calculate vectors, velocity and torque before you punch something?”

Fitz grinned at the ridiculousness of the question. “No, although sometimes it wouldn’t be the worst idea.” He thought about the bruised knuckles he had from banging his fist against the wall. “Yeah, ok, I guess you have a point there…” 

“Yeah, I do…” Lincoln agreed. “You are all patched up by the way.” Fitz realized only then that while they talked, Lincoln finished cleaning the wound on his neck and put a fresh bandage on it.

“Thank you.” Fitz put back on his shirt and was ready to leave. 

Lincoln’s phone rang. He listened intently to it then turned to Fitz. “Daisy says Mack got lightly injured, but he’s going to be OK.” 

Fitz felt the last bit of tension leaving him as he sighed in relief. He walked towards the door, but turned back with a sudden idea.

“Lincoln…”

“I won’t tell Simmons, don’t worry…” Lincoln tried to reassure him.

Fitz smiled. “Thanks… but that’s not what I wanted to ask. We are going to grab some beers with some guys and play the Xbox later, if you want to join.” It just occurred to him how lonely Lincoln seemed to be. He was dating Daisy, but was never really part of the gang. Maybe it was time to change it. He remembered all too well the feeling of being an outsider.

“I don’t drink,” Lincoln said pointedly. Fitz felt that there was a story behind those words, deep and perhaps dark and waited a few moments to see if it was to be told. After a beat of silence, he shrugged.

“OK. So do you want to come?” he asked.

“Sure.” Lincoln said neutrally, but Fitz saw a gleam of excitement on his face.

“Ok, so see you later.” Fitz nodded with a smile. He put his hand in his pocket, and realized that the rock was still in his pocket.

“Your rock…” he turned back.

“Keep it.”  Lincoln said. “It may be helpful again.”

Fitz nodded, then walked away, the smooth rock radiating a strangely reassuring sensation in his hand. 


End file.
